


Hunger

by spnstuck



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Cannibalism, F/M, i worked hard on this, nothing actually happens, touken is more implied really, um its gross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-24 15:24:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2586395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnstuck/pseuds/spnstuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The difference between human hunger and ghoul hunger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> I want to worn that the description does get a little bit graphic a little more than halfway through the story, so if you're not one for grotesque descriptions, this story may not be what you're looking for.

There was a difference between human hunger and ghoul hunger.

Human hunger was more of a fact than anything else.  It was a statement made in passing, easily overlooked, sometimes ignored.  It was "I guess I could eat" and "I'm starved, let's drop by the chain restaurant and grab some hamburgers before getting back to work."  It covered "I was so concentrated, I forgot to eat" all the way to "I'm not hungry, but I'll try a bite anyway."  Earthy, natural, responsible, and taken in stride.

Ghoul hunger was another matter completely.  Ghoul hunger is noticing the caress of someone's hair against their pulsing neck and the flutter of a skirt as it frames someone's legs.  Ghoul hunger is fear of going to the swimming pool because the slickness of skin is fascinating and the sheen of sweat on someone's back smells intoxicating.  Ghoul hunger is looking down at the street and having to grab a solid handrail because the rush of  _wanting_ bursts in the chest; it mixes with a gripping horror and a thrill of excitement and claustrophobia and disgust and desire and everything so much you want to throw up then laugh afterwards.  

Ghoul hunger was being unable to sleep at three in the morning because something is chattering at the back of your mind, spinning your head, and dragging you to unlock the front door and race to the college students' dorms next door and  _eat, eat, eat, eat eat eateateat **eat**_ ** _eateateateat._**

And Kaneki Ken was figuring this out very quickly.

"No, no, no, no,  _no!_ "  He shrieked, kicking away from door handle for the third time in that hour.  Reading was no use, nor watching TV, and-and his hands were shaking and he needed something real, something he could focus on, to throw, to snap, to tear into- _like skin and bones and oh, blood, the **sweetness** of it~_

 _"No! No! No!"_   He'd already shattered the mirror-again-after seeing how one eye flickered while black veins writhed across one side of his face.

 _I need to get somewhere safe, somewhere I can't get out_.  The thought shot through his mind and expanded like fresh air to a drowning person, blanketing all the other voices he was hearing in a moment of temporary sanity.  Kaneki snatched his cell phone from the counter and dashed to- _where, where, where can I hide without people_ -the closet?  Yes, the closet.  He slammed the door behind him, yanking the cord to turn on the dim overhead light, and...waited.

Now there was only the sound of his ragged breathing keeping time with his rapid heartbeat.  Had it always been so loud?

 _Okay, okay, I'm okay._   All there was left to do was wait it out.  Until when?  Morning?  The hunger wouldn't go away at the suggestion of daylight, and people would worry, and come looking for him.  They'd smash down the locked door, see the shards of glass glittering on the tile, and wonder what had happened.  They'd find pages torn out of book spines, but no food.  Just lots of coffee.  They'd look further and discover that the sink had been running recently (there were splashes of water pooling around it), but no money was missing.  Finally they'd open the closet and find-what?  What would they find?  A person?  No, not a person, he wasn't a person anymore.  Just a thing, a hybrid that wouldn't be able to control himself if someone were to just-to just o p e n the door and he could tackle them, easy, and-and  _snap the neck, easy as that, or maybe a slower death, one where the blood spurts and gurgles and-and-and and and andandand_

His thoughts had once been like pieces of string:  connected, logical, orderly.  Now it was like someone had hacked at the string with scissors, so that now there were only frayed pieces of thread scattered everywhere.  He could pick one up, examine it, follow it for a while before it ended and fell apart, slipping from his fingertips so that there was nothing he could grasp onto.  Nothing to distract before his mind wandered back to-back to-

"Touka!"  Kaneki gasped, glancing at the phone still in his hand.  "Touka, please, Touka, pick up!"  She was on speed dial, and in seconds the phone was trilling softly.  Six rings and then:

"Kaneki, what the fuck?  You better have a good reason to be calling my ass at bitch o' clock in the morning or I  _swear_ I'll break your finger _again_ and-"

 _Was she still talking?  Oh.  Right.  Right._ "Touka," Kaneki breathed.  "Please, I-I need your help, I don't know how much longer I can-I don't know, please, Touka.  I'm so scared.  I'm so scared, Touka, I'm afraid I'm going to kill somebody."

"...Kaneki?"

 

Touka wondered what kind of figure she must have cut: a sixteen-year-old girl sprinting down the street with a recyclable bag full of styrofoam containers.  Kaneki lived in a series of apartments near his college.  Somewhere on the bottom floor, she knew.   _Oh, fuck, oh, fuck-shit-damn.  Why didn't he say anything?  It's not like I didn't warn him.  He had to know this was coming._

She skidded to a stop in front of a familiar-looking door.  "Kaneki!  Kaneki?"  She yelled, banging on it furiously.  It was possible the neighbors would wake up, but at that point, she didn't care.  "Kaneki, open up, it's me, Touka!"  No reply.

Touka slid a hairpin from her pocket and jammed it into the lock.  A few twists and some creative cursing and-there!  The door sprung open.

She rushed inside, slamming it behind her, closing off... _and empty room?_   Devoid of any life but the personal belongings that appeared to have taken a life of their own to jump onto the floor and crash against the walls.   _Oh, Kaneki, just hang on..._

No one in the bathroom.  The closet, it is, or so she hoped.  A feeling of dread was already settling behind her ribcage.  "Kaneki?"  She called through the door.

"Touka!"

She threw the door open in a flash, and there he was.  Huddled against the back corner. His black hair was a mess, and his face shone with tears.  Touka could see his hands shaking from the doorway.  His kakugan was almost luminous in the dim light, surrounded by a web of twitching black threads.  "It's okay," she whispered, "You're okay now."  The best word to describe him was  _raw._ Every idea flashed in his eyes:  she could see him trying to force control and distaste, but his trembling hands twisted the carpet and saliva dripped from one corner of his mouth.

He whimpered, eyes sliding right off her to the bag she gripped in one hand.

"Yeah, I know.  Don't worry."

 She closed the door behind her with one foot then leaned against it, sliding to the ground.  She set the bag between them and nodded.  

 

Unlike the first time she'd seen him eat, he didn't need any encouragement.  Even for a ghoul, the way he ate was grotesque, jarring, animalistic.  Utensils weren't commonly used (except by gourmets. but really, that said enough on its own ), but that didn't mean Touka enjoyed seeing Kaneki lick his fingers eagerly after wolfing down someone's set of intestines.  She pulled her knees up to her chest when she heard him swallow and tried to mentally block out the sound of splintering bones.  

The worst part-the  _worst_ part-was watching the change from human to ghoul swallow him up until there was nothing left.  Gone was the soft-spoken nerd that couldn't work up the confidence to get his sorry ass to ask out the girl who read the same books as him.  Gone was the kid who-was he actually a college student?-sat mostly by himself in the same coffee shop.  And gone was the person who had to have food smacked into his mouth because he wouldn't eat it himself.

Instead, someone had taken his place.  Someone who grinned widely when he tore off a chunk of human flesh and groaned with pleasure when the blood's metallic aroma blossomed into the air.  She knew that it was dangerous to get between him and his goal now, but she wasn't scared.  Not of Kaneki.  She was scared for what he was losing and what he was becoming.

The Kaneki who-dare she think it-the Kaneki who  _she_ cared about was draining away.  To be replaced by a stranger who giggled while tearing off digits. 

Touka rested her chin on her knees and stared the ground. She wasn't sure if what she had brought would be enough, and it was dangerous to try and leave him alone so quickly.  Some ghouls were most unstable before they ate, and others once the bloodlust sparked in their eyes.  She wasn't sure what Kaneki qualified as yet.  

"Touka?" 

Her head jerked up.  He was staring at her, gore smeared across his face and flecks of it dying his shirt. She sighed heavily.  No, of course he wasn't done.  He'd gone too long-far too long-to be satisfied so quickly.  If she hadn't known that, she would have noted how there was still a hollowness in his expression, and how his fingers still twitched intermittently. 

"I'll be right back," she said, standing up and snatching up her emptied bag.  "You have to stay here.  Don't go outside.  Don't get a book.  Don't even leave this closet.  Do you understand?"  He stared at her, giving no indication he'd heard what she said.  "Do you understand?"  She repeated.

He stood up by way of reply and grabbed her arm. She whirled around defensively.   _No, no, no, no, fuck, this is bad, he should still be weak enough that I can fight him, but if he tries to attack now my kagune can't-_ _  
_

They were face to face, inches apart.  She could feel his breath stir her hair.  "Touka," he said.  She felt a climbing fear stack into her throat.

"What?"

"Let me...come with you." 

" _Hell_ , no!"  She shoved him against the opposite wall, which he slid down to collapse on the floor in a fit of laughter.  

"It's much-much-much  _faster_ that way, Touka!"  He breathed between episodes.  "And it's been-been a-while since  _you_ ate, hasn't it?  We can go _-_ together!"  His eyes shone vacantly.  "We can-can go to Anteiku-or-or maybe the  _park_ or the  _college,_ and if we see someone, I'm sure it would taste so much-so much better  _fresh, whereyoucanstillheartheirheartbeatand-_ "  He broke off into indistinguishable muttering.

 _Bloodlust is is, then._ "Stay here," she interrupted.  "I'm going to be right back.  And I  _swear_ , if I come back and you're not here, I will snap exactly half the bones in your fucking body."

 

It took two more visits to Anteiku before she felt that she could stop locking the door behind her.  Both times she waited outside the closet, where it was easier to muffle the inhumanity of what she was hearing.  

She sighed, half-heartedly plucking a torn paperback from the floor.  "Egg of the Black Goat," she muttered aloud.  "Holy shit."

"Touka?"  She tossed the book to the couch and answered through the door:

"Alright, alright, but this is the last time, Kaneki, I really can't go anymore."  Not that he probably realized that.

"Touka?"  He repeated a little more softly.  She turned around and found that the closet door was open.   _Fuck._

"I'm so sorry," he whispered before bursting into tears.

 

He suddenly paled and swayed to one side.  Touka leapt forward and caught him before he could crash to the floor.  She dragged him as carefully as she could back into the closet, setting him down against a wall while simultaneously trying to kick the styrofoam boxes out of the way.

 "It's okay, you're going to be okay," she said after closing the door again.   _He shouldn't see all that now._ _  
_

Kaneki blinked a few times like he was staring at something bright.  Then his eyes spilled over with moisture again, clear liquid carving tracks across the red still splashed across his cheeks.  "Touka, I'm so _sorry,"_   he repeated, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm  _sorry, I'm sorry, I'M SORRY!"_ His voice rose in volume until he was screaming, banging on the floor with every syllable.  " _I didn't KNOW I couldn't do it and I didn't WANT to call you but I was so scared, I thought I was going to kill someone, and I would have LIKED IT, Touka,  fuck, fuck, fuck I did kill someone it's all over my hands and my face, fuck, I need-I need-I want-want my mom, shit, I just want my mom."_ His face contorted into one of Uta's masks:  squinted into a facade of horror and unadulterated pain.   _  
_

Touka stood by the door, unsure of what to do.  Could the neighbors hear?  Were they in danger?  But no-if someone hadn't heard before, it was unlikely they'd hear now.

Something twisted in her gut, wrenching her forward to slide down next to Kaneki.  His hands were clenching at the side of his face, his screeching dissolved into loud sobs.  She took one hand hesitantly, pulling it into her own, where she rubbed the palm with one thumb in a continuous circle.  It didn't make sense and it didn't  _do_ anything, but it felt right, and Kaneki's other hand dropped to his side.  He surprised her when he leaned against her shoulder, soaking her hoodie with salty red, but she didn't pull away.

She didn't know how long they sat there like that, in a four-by-six space.  It could have been ten minutes, it could have been an hour.  Gradually, he had stopped whimpering, and now tears only dripped silently and solemnly like the trickle of runoff after a rainstorm.  She hadn't let go of his hand; not yet.  For now it was just the two of them in a bubble, kept on the ground by the weight of the occurrence.

Eventually, Kaneki broke the silence:  "Touka?"

"I'm right here."

"I don't feel well.  I think I ate too much."

"No, no, you're just coming off of the adrenaline.  You're okay, Kaneki-you're fine.  You haven't done anything wrong.  It's probably time you get some rest."

"I'm not tired," he yawned.

"Come on, let me help you up."  He was still a little pale.  She assisted in pulling him from the floor, and guided him out of the closet into his trashed living room.

She heard him swallow and shiver, and she realized he was staring at the empty boxes littered outside the closet door.  He seemed to shrink even as she held him up, shuddering inside himself with a small whine.  "Don't look at those," she said quickly, half-carrying him to his bed.

He stumbled and collapsed onto the crisp white sheets, immediately curling into the fetal position.  "Here, you should-ah-take off your hoodie.  Let's clean you up."  She felt a twinge of uncomfort, then an automatic mental " _Fuck, Touka, he just ate like, two people, I hardly doubt he heard that come out the same way you did."_ He slipped off the blue-green jacket, revealing a thin t-shirt underneath.   _  
_

Touka took the hoodie and dumped it into the bathroom's trash bin, along with the bloodied containers and any large shards of glass puckering up from the floor.  She also wet a paper towel, using it to wipe out off the remainder of the red staining Kaneki's mouth.  He already looked to be asleep, huddled down under the blanket far enough that she could only see from his nose to the top of his head.

She noiselessly slipped to the front door, one hand already on the handle when:  "Touka?"  The voice was weak, defeated, almost nonexistent.

"Are you still awake?"  She hushed back.

"I-I can't be by myself.  Can you stay here with me?  You can use the other side of the bed."

Touka froze.  "I really should get back to Anteiku, Kaneki."

"Please?"  He sat up, and desperation flared in his eyes.  Touka could see it across the room; he didn't trust himself to be alone, he wouldn't for a long time after this.  It was possible he was even still hungry.

She sighed.  "Okay.  Okay.  Move over." He wriggled to one side of the bed, and she slid to the other.  She wasn't sure if he could see the heat rising to her cheeks ( _Stupid, he's facing the other way.),_ but she knew her heartbeat leaping in her throat told her that she was on edge for a completely different reason. _  
_

It wasn't like that though, or at least not at this moment, it couldn't be.

For now she was just glad that that delicious scent no longer polluted the room.

And the person snoring softly beside her was human.


End file.
